Canis Canem Edit
by OneWhoKnocks
Summary: The point at which you consider talking to Severus Snape about your problems is probably the point where things have gone too far. Luckily, there are more understanding people available. Remus/Sirius


Remus stared blankly into the mirror and thanked whatever deity possible that at least it wasn't a talking mirror. He didn't think he could handle that on top of everything else. Groaning, he tapped his head against the cool glass, pressing his hair in a way that was going to make it stand up ridiculously when he left the room. _If _he ever left the room.

Of course, the whole group was so unkempt, he supposed no one would notice if his disheveled hair looked slightly more bizarre than usual. James and _Sirius_ managed to make the scruffiness work, although it didn't extend to their clothes like it did with Remus, and most people overlooked the fact that sometimes Sirius had fleas. People were a tad less kind about Peter, mostly because he gave the impression that he was covered in a thin film of grease.

Dear god, he was moping about his hair now.

Seventh year had been miserable so far. The Marauders had been decapitated – James spent nearly all of his waking life with Lily, depriving the group of its de facto leader. Peter seemed a lot more distant, and Remus wondered if they were both feeling the same gnawing depression. Peter had always worshipped James, and when it came down to it, he probably felt rather awkward without his hero.

And that left Remus and Sirius.

When it had been the Marauders together, it had been easy enough to forget about. It was like the four of them had been connected by rope, leaning back, suspended and supported by one another. When two abruptly left, the other two crashed to the floor and quite likely into one another. And this was a problem.

Because somewhere along the line, in their tight-knitted little team, Remus had fallen for Sirius.

Sirius with his fleas, overly-long hair and his fascinating grey eyes and his stupid lack of respect for the library… _No, not his eyes! He's a messy dog that farts in my books, he's not… _It was impossible. Remus couldn't shake the feeling that the group's splintering was all his fault. Maybe the others had noticed. Maybe they just wanted an excuse to avoid him, as he was making excuses to avoid them.

He had never held a great interest in Quidditch, so no one blinked if he said he needed to study. Even if he wouldn't be alone with Sirius there, he just couldn't face him in public anymore.

"Cheer up dear," said the mirror, and Remus nearly exploded.

Restraining the wolf instinct of darting away on all fours, he pretended to smooth out the creases in his sweater and tried to look calm, and very much not like a seventeen year-old boy who'd just narrowly missed having the bladder control of a seventy year-old man.

"H-how long have you been able to do that?"

"I like to surprise people."

"You've been my mirror for _seven years_! Why now?"

"All the dormitory mirrors can talk, dear, we just know when to shut up."

Remus tried not to think about the horrors of the boys' dormitory secretly being observed for god-knows-how-long. He raised a hand as if to speak, realised that he was speaking to a _mirror, _swiveled on his heel and darted down the stairs, feeling very much like he had a tail between his legs. The library would be as good a place as any to bumble along onto the next scene of the cringe comedy that was his life.

_Bathos. That's what this is, bathos. I might be miserable, but this is just too pathetic. All we're missing is someone to laugh at me…_

"Well, well, if it isn't Potter's furry little friend. Why the rush, Lupin, is it your time of the month?"

_Right on bloody cue…_

"Severus," Remus nodded politely, aware of how red he must be. "Why aren't you at Quidditch?"

Severus Snape padded closer, smirking under a hooked beak. Black eyes focused on him with barely disguised glee. Remus suspected Severus lived purely on spite by this point in his life, all the pain of being an outcast twisted into venom.

"Much as I love watching Potter being hit by bludgers," Snape drawled, "and I do, some of us have work to do."

Remus wondered if Snape was avoiding it for the same reasons he was. Snape and Lily hadn't spoken in a long time, but if there was ever a chance of them bumping into one another… Maybe the mirror cost him leave of his senses, or maybe Remus put more stock in his own deductions than he thought, but it all led to his bizarre outburst.

"Have you ever really needed to avoid someone?" It didn't come out half the way he'd hoped, and quite a bit louder too.

There was a terribly awkward pause.

"…Yes," Snape said finally, drawing out every word even longer than usual. "Your entire group. I can't believe that you're considered the smart one. Still, with your friends it can't be hard."

Remus could almost see himself squirming. All facets of his personality had temporarily leaped up and started screaming at one another. He was going to die here of embarrassment, leaving Snape as the only witness to some monumentally stupid last words.

"Gentlemen," came a voice, and Remus saw Snape shrink a little.

Albus Dumbledore glanced over the top of half-moon spectacles. He was smiling gently, that expression of serenity that seemed to be his default mood, often regardless of the situation.

"Professor!" Remus heard himself exclaim, rather unnecessarily.

"Sir," said Snape, almost inclining his greasy head.

"Professor Slughorn has need of you Severus," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "I think it's rather urgent."

Unusually quiet and obedient, the Slytherin disappeared down the corridor, skulking away like some sort of silent movie villain. Remus watched that before directing his eyes straight to the floor and his suddenly captivating shoes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still make out an inexplicably cheerful Dumbledore looking straight at him.

"Why- why aren't you at the game, sir?"

"I thought, Remus, that my position as a teacher has some duties that override sport and quietly supporting Gryffindor." His eyes sparked with humour. "If anyone asks of course, I am impartial and support each team individually."

Remus knew Dumbledore was only trying to make him feel comfortable, but all he could bring himself to say was a decidedly stupid-sounding, "Sir?"

"I believe tea would be most needed right now," Dumbledore said, and gestured down the corridor towards the stone griffin staircase.

* * *

Dumbledore wasn't a man. Remus knew that now. No, Dumbledore was the omniscient, unstoppable anthropomorphic personification of _deus ex machina_. Dumbledore _knew _about Sirius, and Remus knew he knew. He didn't know if Dumbledore knew he knew he knew, but it was probably the case. Remus wisely declined the cup of tea, aware that his shaking would only result in a ruined sweater and carpet.

Dumbledore set the tea on the desk and sat down, face unreadable. Remus found the corner of the desk quite interesting all of a sudden. Normally he was very articulate, or at least he thought he was. He barely noticed that his knuckles

"Mister Black," Dumbledore began, and Remus looked up in panic. The headmaster must have noticed, because he raised a hand to stop the frightened babble before it started. "Mister Black came to me before the match. He was rather concerned about you. He thinks you've been avoiding him."

"…yes," Remus said, unable to meet Dumbledore's gaze. The deep-seated panic seemed to have rooted him to the spot, causing him to feel far too warm, even more awkward, and drenched in sweat.

There was a long silence, and Remus swallowed nervously, the hairs of his sweater suddenly extremely uncomfortable and irritating against now clammy skin. Dumbledore set down his own teacup in its saucer, the sound unbearably loud.

"Love comes in many forms, Remus."

He didn't know how it triggered so fast, but Remus felt tears on his cheeks, and nearly _sobbed _in front of Dumbledore, the man who had done so much for him already.

"I didn't… I didn't mean for it to happen sir, and I know he… He's got these pin-ups of Muggle women, sir, so I know he doesn't… Oh god… Please don't tell anyone, I… I've been alone this whole year sir. They must know about me, he hates me…"

"I doubt that very much," Dumbledore replied. "I am only sitting here because Sirius cares enough about you to bring this to your attention."

Remus rubbed his hands on his face, partly in an attempt to wipe away tears and partly just to hide for the briefest moment.

"Remus. Remus, look at me."

Agonisingly slowly, Remus brought his eyes up to meet Dumbledore's and was shocked by what he found there. Dumbledore's eyes were shining behind those glasses, tears just held back. It wasn't pity, and it wasn't just sympathy – Dumbledore knew _exactly _what he was going through. Remus felt himself gaping.

"I'm quite prone to mistakes Remus. But that does make me rather good at seeing what went wrong. Your friends miss you greatly. It may be that Mister Black does not feel the same type of love towards you, but the love he does feel is just as strong. And love is powerful Remus – you should know I'm quite fond of saying that."

It was almost an alien sensation – he had been so uncertain, so lonely this year that it took him a moment to realise that a grin was spreading across his face. It was shaky, his eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks were stained with tears, but he was smiling.

"And now," said Dumbledore, "if Mister Potter has not already taken the snitch, you'll find you have some friends waiting for you at the Quidditch pitch." He smiled knowingly. "Good luck, Remus."

In future years, Remus still found it difficult to be believe, and embarrassing to recall. But like his outburst with Snape, it happened regardless of sense. He hugged Dumbledore before he fully realised what he was doing. The professor simply nodded as if he'd expected it all along.

A scruffy-haired boy in an oversized sweater could be seen that day running full-pelt towards the Quidditch pitch. Several portraits agreed that the boy looked like the world had been lifted from his shoulders.


End file.
